


Munchausen by Proxy

by beachbby



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Involuntary Hospitalization, M/M, Munchausen by proxy, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, the kids are aged up to around 16
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachbby/pseuds/beachbby
Summary: Eddie underestimated the lengths his mother would go to in order to make him look sick.-Or, in which Eddie gets admitted to a psychiatric facility under false pretenses and tries, desperately, to get the medical personnel to see what his mother’s been doing all these years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning: ableist language is used (crazy, insane, etc.) so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read. Also, people react poorly to some severe mental illnesses here and while I don't personally feel the same way about said mental illnesses, I can understand why people would not want to read about it. 
> 
> Please keep in mind that I don't want to portray people with mental illnesses such as schizophrenia or OCD as "crazy or insane" and that if you have one of those mental illnesses, I don't think less of you.

The instant Eddie stepped into his house, he knew that something was wrong. 

For the first time in a long time, his mother’s TV wasn’t on. She wasn’t in her chair, either. Everything in the air felt still, almost stale, but Eddie knew that his mother hadn’t just up and left. If there was anything he could rely on her for, it was the fact that she rarely left the house. 

Eddie knew what tension in the house felt like, he’d felt it when his mother tried to force actual medications down his throat instead of sugar pills, and this felt just like that had. 

He’d been doing just fine moments before, had just waved Bill and Stan away before walking in here, but now a rush of anxiety forced him to lock his knees to avoid trembling. He knew that this had nothing to do with It, with Pennywise, they’d finished all of that a while ago, but knowing that almost made everything worse. 

It meant that his mother was the direct cause of whatever was going on here. 

His mom kept routines, it was her thing. She had a weekly pill divider that she filled and replaced for him even if he didn’t take them and flushed them down the toilet, she bought him a new inhaler once every two months, and when she was in a bad mood, she’d spike his food with whatever new medication she’d gotten him. Sure, they were terrible routines that he hated, but they were routines nonetheless. 

He was out of his depth here, all of a sudden, and he didn’t like it. 

Quietly, he set his backpack down on the floor (gently, he didn’t want to make any noise) and started through the main hallway. His steps were halting and stalled and he had to pause more than a few times to listen for any odd noises. There wasn’t much of anything for a few painstakingly slow minutes and he began to worry that he was home alone before he heard a soft voice from the kitchen. 

It was masculine, deep, with a hint of a rasp to it that seemed more kind than not. 

Eddie almost pissed himself. 

He took great pains to slow his breathing, the instinct to stutter and gasp an over-exaggeratedly ragged breath had taken him years to leave behind and even now it was a hard fight. Fuck his mother for coaching him to have that reaction, seriously, it was fucking him up. Once he quieted himself, Eddie leaned in as close as he could get, the doorway to the kitchen was wide and he strained to hear what the voice was saying. 

“-alright, Ms. Kaspbrak. We can talk to your son once he gets here and have the evaluation then.” 

What the fuck? 

Evaluation? Was this another one of his mother’s bullshit attempts to make him look sick? Had she seriously dragged someone to their _house_ over this shit? 

Fuck, looks like ditching all those appointments didn’t mean shit anymore if she could just get doctors to come here. 

His mother sobbed and even if he wasn’t looking at her, he knew that they were crocodile tears just by how her breath hitched when she sucked it back in. White-hot rage shot through him and he straightened, all apprehension forgotten. Fuck this, fuck her for continuing to force this shit on him when he was fucking _sixteen_. She knew he wasn’t going to fall for her shit anymore so she had to get other people to do her fucking dirty work for her. 

He stormed into the kitchen, ready to defend himself against whatever she’d thought up of this time, and paused only when he saw the small crowd that’d gathered around the dining table. 

The table that his mother was crying over, because she was an overdramatic bitch. 

There were two other women, both of them in maroon nursing scrubs, and two men, one of which was wearing a pristine looking lab coat. Any words he’d been about to say died in his throat and he stood in the doorway, feeling his shoulders rise to his ears as he stared down the medical personnel his mother had somehow convinced to show up here. 

His mother took one look at him and heaved an enormous sob, almost collapsing onto the table as one of the female nurses rubbed at her back. 

He forced his expression to stay even, only moving to look at the man that’d cleared his throat. He was the doctor. “You’re Eddie Kaspbrak, right?” And he nodded, refusing to touch the hand that the man had offered out to him. 

They could shake hands once he knew what the fuck was going on. 

Undeterred, the doctor continued, motioning towards the table. “How about you take a seat so we can talk?” 

“Not until I know what’s going on.” He said, internally grimacing at his rudeness but refusing to back down. No fucking way was he sitting with his mom while this shit was happening. The doctor took that in stride too and Eddie was beginning to think he’d been specially trained in dealing with asshole teenagers. 

“There are several concerns that your mother has mentioned and we just need to talk to you about them, okay?” 

He nodded after a few seconds of mulling it over, still wary. 

The doctor began again, his face covered in gentle creases that still managed to put him on edge. “Alright, well, first things first, you can call me Dr. Smyth. There were quite a few things your mother mentioned to us that has our team worried, can we talk about them?” He’d already said yes, what was with the redundancy? 

It felt like he was being treated with kid gloves and it made his skin prickle. 

“What type of worries?” He asked, edging closer towards Dr. Smyth when the man pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat. 

The doctor didn’t offer him a look though and began reading off from the sheet. “She mentioned that you’ve been noncompliant in taking your antipsychotic medication?” He fucking hated his mom.

“It’s because I don’t need them.” 

One of the female nurses inhaled sharply at that and it was a hard fight to not glare at the one that did it. The male nurse was passive and simply watched, monitoring their interactions. Dr. Smyth scribbled something down on the paper and his mother dissolved into another flurry of sobs, a litany of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, my sweet baby,” leaving her. 

“Another major concern is the fact that you deny your diagnoses to be true and are refusing behavioral therapy for them.” 

He tried not to grind his teeth. “I don’t need behavioral therapy because my mental health is perfectly fine.” 

This doctor had to have seen his records and noticed the fact that his mom was a fucking doctor shopper. She’d sent him to more clinics than he could count in search of the diagnoses that she wanted for him, it was fucking obvious what she did if someone looked at his records for more than one fucking minute. Eddie was so fucking sick of this shit and he knew that if they didn’t still get his dad’s military pension that she’d run them into the fucking ground with medical bills. 

Dr. Smyth leveled him with a soft look that was firm around the edges. “You do understand that you’ve been diagnosed with schizophrenia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder, correct?” Oh yeah, he knew, he knew in explicit detail. Just like how he’d known that he had asthma, allergies, and _food poisoning on 27 different occasions._

“Yeah, but a diagnosis doesn’t mean shit if I don’t actually have it.” 

Dr. Smyth looked fucking _sad_ at that, like Eddie was something to be pitied for knowing that he was neuro-typical. “If you refuse to take your medication, it can endanger the people you’re close to. The medications are meant to help you find balance in your life.” He heard this shit enough from his mother, he didn’t need to hear it from an actual doctor or he might actually start to fucking believe it. 

“The medicine isn’t going to help me, I don’t need it, it’s an incorrect prescription.” He took a deep breath, ignored his mother, and looked the doctor in the eyes. “Me taking the medication will be worse than if I didn’t. I don’t endanger my friends by not taking something that’s bad for me.” 

Something else got scribbled onto the paper and Eddie wanted to crane his neck to see but forced himself not to give into the temptation. 

“Why, now, do you think the medication is bad for you?” Oh that was a loaded question. Should he grab the fucking bulleted list of why it was complete bullshit that he’d made in sophomore year when his mom had finally managed to get him the schizophrenia diagnosis and been utterly overjoyed? 

Eddie could still remember the way she’d giggled and hugged him and taken him out to a restaurant that night for the first time in a decade. 

“I don’t need antipsychotics if I don’t experience psychosis.” 

“Do you know what psychosis is, Eddie?” Dr. Smyth asked, his voice calm and relaxed and Eddie almost lost his shit when he realized that he couldn’t see either of the female nurses anymore. He couldn’t just _look away_ though so he pushed through it, pushed past the doubt that was burrowing into his head. 

“It’s acting fucking crazy, which I don’t do.” He ground out, clenching his fists when his mother gasped at his language, but didn’t correct him. “I don’t experience psychosis and I don’t have mental health problems.” 

“I think you might be concerned that our aim is to harm you, and I promise it isn’t.” 

Oh, fucking great. They thought he was having delusions right now. 

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me, I think you’re not listening to the facts. Which, you know, if you don’t listen to, can be harmful considering you want me to take medicine that I don’t need.” 

Dr. Smyth sighed at that, like he was genuinely upset. “Eddie, I’m sorry, but I think we may need to do more one-on-one work with you for the near future so you can properly cope with your mental illness.” What? “Your mother has agreed that if we see fit, we’ll be able to take you to an institution for just a few days for an extended evaluation and more nuanced diagnosis.” 

“What?” He rasped, turning when the squeak of shoes on tile behind him made him startle. 

The two female nurses were blocking the doorway out of the kitchen and he felt his blood run cold. 

One of the lights in the kitchen flickered and he twitched. 

His mother started crying again and Dr. Smyth’s voice was still gentle when he spoke. “It should only take a few days, please understand where we’re coming from. Do you think you’ll be able to come with us in our vehicle?” 

He laughed, anxious when everyone still looked solemn. “What, is it a white van? You gonna kidnap me? Of course I’m not going to go with you.” 

“Eddie-“ his mother said, her voice wobbly and he cut her off.

“No! I’m not going when I don’t need psychiatric help! Stop being so overreactive, you can’t just diagnose people when they aren’t sick!” 

“Eddie, even if you’re noncompliant we still have to get you out of this house.” Dr. Smyth’s voice was still gentle and Eddie fucking _hated_ it. “We can do this one of two ways, the easy way, or the hard way.” He wasn’t fucking _five_ fuck you very much, Doc. 

“Oh so we’re going straight to involuntary hospitalization?” An anxious laugh left him and he eyed the brunette nurse that’d started edging closer towards him, her eyes cold. “Good job on infringing on my fucking rights, isn’t this illegal? There’s no fucking way I’m leaving this house with you.” 

His mother snapped, her voice harsh. “Eddie! Watch your mouth!” 

“No! Not until you stop trying to pin diagnoses on me! You’re just gonna let them take me away for no reason!?” 

She sobbed, the sound of it harsh and loud and Dr. Smyth had to raise his voice to be heard over it. “Eddie this is your last chance to be compliant.” 

“Fuck your “be compliant” bullshit! You want me to just agree to being taken away for no reason!? That’s not something a normal person would do!” His voice broke and he had to take a ragged breath to steady himself, terrified at the idea of being forced to leave like this. Fuck, _fuck_, what the fuck were the other losers going to do? 

He missed the way Dr. Smyth nodded to the blond nurse, the woman moving to slip out into the hallway. 

A pair of thick arms wrapped around his middle, pressing his arms into his chest, and he screamed, thrashing in an attempt to get _out_. 

There was a deep grunt behind him and the grip got tighter and he spat out a particularly nasty swear as he tried to figure out a way to kick the male nurse in his fucking dick. Fuck! He was fucking sixteen! Why the fuck was he so goddamn scrawny!? 

“This isn’t fucking right mom! You know I’m not fucking sick! This is another one of your shitty plans to make me sicker and I’m not falling for it!” 

And there was a sharp pinch in his arm. His neck almost cracked with how hard he jerked to look over at the brunette nurse giving him some sort of injection while he was being fucking _restrained_. 

“What the hell is that?” His voice cracked and the nurse was utterly stone-faced, her expression uncompromising. 

He struggled as much as he could, kicking out as hard as he could manage, but had gone almost completely loose-limbed by the time the blond nurse had wheeled in the yellow and black ambulance stretcher. 

He was straightened up and it took all he had to keep his head from bobbing. There was a ringing in his ears and if he focused, he could hear crying. 

Someone picked him up and moved him to the stretcher and his head lolled to the side, feeling utterly boneless. He blinked and opened his eyes to see the last restraint being tightened over his legs and he tried to swear but the most he could manage was a slurred “what?” 

The only words he caught as the stretcher began moving were from Dr. Smyth. 

“Patient is combative and experiences delusions of persecution-“

He had no idea who he was talking to. 

-

Richie had no idea why the fuck Eddie hadn’t come to first period today. 

Ever since Eds had found out about his mom’s whole “you’re sick when I say you’re sick” thing, he showed up to school as often as he could just to piss her off. Back when they’d been in elementary and middle school, Eddie would miss a handful of days a month for whatever reason his mother had cooked up at the time and if anyone had a worse attendance record than a fourth grade Eddie who’d just gotten a fresh asthma diagnosis, Richie would eat his fucking shoes. 

Richie had no idea how many doctors appointments that Eddie’d weaseled his way out of, and he’d like to keep it that way. Seriously, that shit sounded expensive. 

Second period eventually rolled around and normally by this time Eddie would’ve shown up, huffing and puffing and pissed off at the fact that he’d had to use the backroads to bike to school because his mom would’ve found him on the main roads. He wasn’t there though.

_’Ah, shit. Did Mrs. K actually manage to rope him into an appointment?’_ Richie grimaced, unable to think of anything else in class beyond that. Eddie was gonna be so pissed at lunch when he showed up late after getting poked and prodded at by doctors. 

Richie already had half a dozen prostate exam jokes cooked up in his head for when the time came. 

But then Eddie didn’t show up to lunch, or to any of their other classes, and he knew he wasn’t the only one confused when he met up with the rest of the losers outside of the school. 

Bev was the first to confront the elephant in the room, sounding more tentative than normal. “Eddie wasn’t here today, d’ya think he’s actually sick this time?” Richie was the only one who snorted, everyone else just groaned. Bev rolled her eyes before starting up again. “Yeah, yeah I know, but when was the last time Eddie actually missed a day of school?” 

“He’s probably just comforting his mom after our breakup.” Richie said, and he savored the way his friends all bitched at that. Still, it wasn’t as funny without Eddie here to threaten to kick the shit out of him for saying that. 

“W-w-w-“ Bill paused for a second, took a controlled breath, and began again from scratch. “Let’s v-visit his house t-to check and see if he’s okay.” 

And they did just that, riding their bikes to the Kaspbrak residence didn’t take long but standing outside on the sidewalk and working up the courage to actually go up the stairs was a whole other thing. There was something about this place that gave him the heebie-jeebies. Ugh, especially the good old lime green porch paint, his second favorite part about the Kaspbrak household (the seventeen bleach jugs in one of the pantries was his all-time fav.) 

Anyway, working up courage, yada yada yada. Mrs. K was a fucking freak and even if he made a good dozen sex jokes about her on the daily, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t afraid of her. Him, Bill and Stan were used to her weird tics and intricacies at least but Bev, Mike and Ben didn’t have their years of experience and expertise. 

The one time they’d all dealt with her as a collective group was when she cried for an hour over Eddie getting his cast off when he “wasn’t ready yet.” Richie still had no idea why the fuck that argument needed to take place at _his_ house, but it was whatever. It had been then and only then that Richie had ever seen Mike close to shedding tears of frustration and he never wanted to see it again. 

“Ben,” Richie threw his arm over the guy’s shoulder, gripping it loosely when he startled. “You’re the spokesperson, she’ll like you. You’re nice looking and haven’t gotten on her bad side yet.” He was going to get experience the hard way. Richie’d already volunteered him for the role, because he was nice. 

Ben looked absolutely shellshocked. “No way, she’s scary!” He hissed and Richie was ready to stir the pot even more but Stan interrupted with a sigh, sounding far older than he actually was. 

“I’ll talk to her, just keep your fucking mouth shut Richie.” 

He raised his hands, feigning innocence, and followed Stan as he walked up the stairs. Everyone else grudgingly followed behind, even Bev looking apprehensive at the idea of dealing with Eddie’s mom even though this was her idea. 

Richie probably would’ve snuck in through Eddie’s window later today by himself, unprompted, to check up on him and make sure he wasn’t fucking dying but that was whatever. 

Stan took a deep breath, letting it out in a gust before knowing once, twice, three times on Eddie’s front door. 

It was quiet for a few moments before Mrs. K’s telltale footsteps started towards the door and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making some smart ass quip. There was the sound of multiple locks being opened from inside and when Mrs. K opened the door, Richie blinked. 

She looked like she’d been crying. 

He could hear Stan swallow loudly before starting up, his voice a little wobbly. “Uh, sorry for bothering you Mrs. Kaspbrak, we were just wondering if Eddie was okay? He wasn’t there at school today.” Bill pushed through their group and handed Stan something that the other accepted easily. “We brought the homework that he missed from class.” Ah, shit! Score!! Parents _always_ softened up when there was homework involved! 

Mrs. K sniffed and reached out to accept the papers before opening the door marginally wider. Richie could literally _smell_ the disinfectant that permeated Eddie’s house from outside. “If you take your shoes off outside and make sure to use the hand sanitizer, you can come in.” 

She moved, giving them room to do just that, and Richie’s mind was working a mile a minute. She’d never said what happened with Eddie, but still let them inside. So, technically, he couldn’t be doing too bad by her frankly insane standards. He stepped across the doorway and had to take a few controlled half-breaths to reacclimatize to the Kaspbrak household scent. Shit, he’d forgotten how bad it was. The smell of house cleaner was even worse when he stood fully inside and his eyes watered almost on command when he got a nose-full of chemicals.

How the fuck did they live here without suffocating in their fucking sleep? 

She watched them use the hand sanitizer, telling Bill to put an extra pump in his hand when the first one he’d done didn’t meet her standards, before leading them deeper inside. 

The only other sound in the house beyond them was her T.V.

Richie swallowed, trying to figure out what she was exactly doing here. Stan spoke up right when Richie was about to and he was grateful because knowing him he probably would’ve fucked up the entire interaction and gotten the cops called on them. “Mrs. Kaspbrak, where’s Eddie at? Everything should be in the papers but there were a few things that needed more explanation.” 

That was a fucking lie and Richie couldn’t help but be impressed that Stan was such a good liar at a time like this. That little shit was a certified Liar and Richie wanted to know his trade secrets. 

She set the papers down on the (triple polished and double waxed) kitchen counter before turning back towards them and Richie had to repress the urge to take a step back. “Eddie’s not home right now.” 

What? 

He shared a look with Bill, who’d gone a little paler as he asked “w-where is he t-then?” 

She sniffled, the skin around her eyes reddening again as she teared up and Richie was far too used to this schtick to feel bad for her. “Eddie-bear’s in the hospital.” And he blinked. Huh. 

Ben spoke up, his voice wobbly, genuinely worried for Eddie’s sake. “Is he okay?” 

“He hasn’t been taking his antipsychotics lately and it’s dangerous for him not to. The doctors are working on sorting him out.” Her voice was saccharine-sweet even with tears in her eyes and Richie had no clue what the fuck was going on. Antipsychotics? What the fuck did she mean-

“Why does he need those?” Stan was the one to ask, his voice firmer than before, and Mrs. K straightened, wiping the few tears that’d dribbled down her cherry red cheeks away with an arm. 

“Oh, you all didn’t know?” No, they fucking didn’t know whatever she was implying. Her expression turned sympathetic in that stupid dumb bitch way of hers which meant that her face twisted up and looked half-smug. “A little over a year ago Eddie was diagnosed with schizophrenia, he’s also had obsessive compulsive disorder for around three. Not to mention the anxiety, but the antipsychotics aren’t for that.” 

There was no fucking way that any of that was real. 

“You-“ he started, cutting himself off with a sharp inhale when Bill stomped down on his foot, hard. 

Stan kept talking, ignoring the two of them. “So he’s not in a normal hospital right? He’s at one of those, um-“ Stan faltered “-mental hospitals?” 

She nodded and Richie’s heart sank. Fucking _Bowers_ was in one of those places! Eddie didn’t belong there, no way! 

Mike was up next, his voice even and kind and Richie knew without looking that he was feigning one of his charming smiles. “Thank you Mrs. Kaspbrak. Can you tell him that we said hi when you go visit him?” She brightened, the look of it was weird on her, and seemed happy at the insinuation that Mike thought she was a good mom. 

They ended up leaving after that. She’d clammed up on any more information Stan and Bill tried to drag out of her and Richie was about to stay and force her to give them some sort of _explanation_ but Bev had just pulled him out of the house along with them.

The instant he was on the porch, he whirled on them, eyes wide. “Okay so let’s all agree that Eddie’s mom is a fucking freak and we need to get him out of that hospital.” 

“W-We have no idea w-wh-w-whe- fuck, where he is, though.” Was all Bill could say and Richie huffed, crossing his arms and gritting his teeth for a second, mulling it over. 

They were all silent for a second before Ben broke the tension with a short cough. “Uh, we can always go to the library and find a recent map of the area. Or, or go to a gas station and buy a map there.” Richie could almost hear Eddie screaming about how disgusting gas stations were and shit, he already missed him. 

Richie blinked, forcing the thoughts away, and straightened with a grin. “Benny boy! That’s the best fuckin idea I’ve heard all day! C’mere!” He reached over to ruffle his friend’s hair and got shoved away with a short huff of laughter. 

“It’s only four,” Mike said, interrupting them as he took a quick look at his watch. “If we can figure out where he is, we might be able to make it there before visiting hours are over.” 

_’Well,’_ Richie swallowed roughly. _’At least we have a game plan.’_

He was so going to break up with Mrs. K over this shit. 

-

Waking up was a difficult process. 

He was in and out of consciousness a handful of times before he finally managed to jolt awake and aware enough to wonder what the fuck was going on. 

Eddie sat up, and immediately hunched over when he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. 

_Something_ somewhere throbbed sharply and he stuttered out a weak gasp as he tried to get ahold of himself. He had no idea how long it took, but when he sat up again, his head felt calmer. 

The room he was in was white, light gray, and light blue. He couldn’t see any signs of dirt anywhere, but there weren’t any indications of life either. 

He was in a bed that had scratchy blue cotton blankets, there was a nightstand next to it that didn’t have a drawer or anything on top of it, and there were two doors in the room. One had a small silver placard that only said “Bathroom” and the other was blank, but had a laminated sheet of paper with his name typed on it taped to the back. 

Neither door looked wooden, both were a steel gray that made his fingers twitch. _Metal?_

There was a window. It wasn’t big and it had steel bars across both ends of it, a double layer, as if one wasn’t enough. 

When he looked down at his arms and didn’t see an IV, he breathed a short sigh of relief. 

That relief quickly left him when he saw the gentle gray of the patient scrubs that he wore, and the realization that someone had replaced his clothes while he was passed out made him feel sick. 

His breath stuttered in his chest and he tried to do those breathing exercises that Stan showed him, tried to calm himself down, and it worked. Until a few crisp knocks at his door (that echoed, meaning that it was definitely metallic) made him startle. 

A nurse opened the door quietly, and when she saw him, she smiled. There was a clipboard in her hands and her scrubs were the same maroon color of the other nurse’s, but she was a completely different woman. 

“Hello Edward,” he grimaced and she continued, undeterred. “I know you’re probably scared right now, but can we talk? My name’s Maria.” 

She was still smiling, still calm as she finished and even though he was currently freaking the fuck out, he relaxed just a little. 

“Okay,” he rasped, throat drier than he’d anticipated. “Call me Eddie, though.” 

And she nodded, moving inside and closing the door behind her. 

The sound it made reminded him of a prison cell.


	2. Chapter 2

They ended up having to buy a map from the gas station right outside of town. 

It took fucking forever but somehow their group ended up in Bill’s room, huddled over the map and scanning it for any sort of hospital. Richie couldn’t help but fidget, even while searching for the labels that would help them find Eddie. He was just, just distracted. 

What if Eds was in the same place where’d they’d sent Bowers after he killed his fucking dad? 

Stan was the first to find it. “Here!” He said, voice loud and startling and Richie had to fight the urge to shove Mike out of the way to get a better look at where Stan was pointing. Stan lifted his finger and read the name out loud, his confidence leaving when the words left him. “Pine Creek Mental Asylum.” There was a voice crack at the end of it and even Richie didn’t have the energy to poke fun at it. 

A shaky breath left him. Shit, that didn’t exactly sound good. 

“W-Where is it at?” Bill asked, he was looking between where Stan had pointed to where Derry was. Richie did the same and a cloying sort of anxiety thickened in his stomach when he saw how far the distance between them and the asylum was. 

Mike, the angel, had already figured out how far away it was. He used the mile converter that was at the corner of the map and his finger and traced the distance between the two. He sounded reluctant when he spoke, like he was hiding a grimace. “It’s around forty-five miles away.” 

Fuck. 

A collective sigh left them all and Richie crossed his arms in a huff. “Is there anywhere that’s closer than that?” Maybe this wasn’t even the place! There had to be more options closer by. 

Bev snorted, sounding like she didn’t think the situation was funny at all. “Nope, we’re shit out of luck. The closest place other than that is a normal hospital and even that place is thirty miles out.” Living in a tiny little shitty ass town sucked so fucking much. There was no way they’d be able to bike out that far, especially considering the fact that it was already seven. Just going out to the far away gas station to buy the most recent map had taken forever. 

There was a heavy silence in the air for a moment before Bill spoke up, tentative. “I-I got my learners p-per-permit a few weeks ago. W-w-we can drive there t-tuh-tomorrow if my parents aren’t home.” And Richie could’ve kissed him. 

He settled on tackling Bill in a hug, earning him a startled laugh. “Bad boy Denbrough pulling through! Shit! Eds is gonna go fucking nuts when he sees us!” 

Bill huffed out a few chuckles, shoving Richie away while Ben started the conversation back up again. “How are we sure they’ll let us see him?” 

“They’ll let us in!” Richie said, straightening up and gesturing widely. “If not I’ll just flirt with the hot ass nurses there and distract them while you guys go bust Eddie out!” 

He got a few groans at that and Bev lightly punched Ben in the arm, a smile on her face. “Don’t worry about that, we’ll figure something out.” 

Richie couldn’t fucking wait until tomorrow. 

-

Maria hadn’t been too bad to talk to, she’d barely mentioned the reasons why he was here (which he appreciated more than he thought he would) and had asked if he would’ve preferred to eat in his room or out with the other patients. 

He’d immediately said his room and she didn’t give him any sort of pity, just a nod. It was a sort of easy acceptance that he wasn’t used to. 

The night passed by slowly and he’d been forced to go to bed early just to sleep away the boredom because there was nothing to fucking _do_ here except wait. Well, that wasn’t really true. Technically he could go out and talk to the other patients in the common area, and there were therapist appointments, but other than that there wasn’t much to do here. 

When he woke up Maria was gone and there was a new nurse, this one named Ana, that told him he had a few minutes to get ready before he was going to see his physician. Eddie’d rushed through brushing his teeth and tried not to shit himself when Ana ushered him down the hallway. It felt longer today, somehow. There was something about the white-on-white-on-gray of the hospital that stretched everything out and made it impossible to actually judge distance. 

Ana let him open the door by himself and when he saw Dr. Smyth sitting behind the desk, he had to repress a groan. Fuck, of course he had the fucking psychiatrist that already assumed that he had every diagnosis his mother had gotten him. No fucking way was he going to be able to convince this guy that he wasn’t crazy. 

Dr. Smyth gestured for him to sit, and he did. The seat was cushy when he sat down, sinking under his weight and it was a welcome change to the irritatingly firm mattress they’d stick him with. 

Not to mention the fact that this guy’s office actually had warm tones, like browns and reds and yellows. He found himself relaxing despite his annoyance at everything. 

Ana slipped out of the room, this door closing softer than his own had, and he was left alone with Dr. Smyth. 

The doctor was the first to speak, his voice as kind as Eddie remembered and he couldn’t help but fucking hate it. “I’m sorry we had to meet again like this, Eddie, but it was important that you come here.” He couldn’t help but snort. “Would you be okay with talking about why you think that’s funny?” 

He mulled over the question, eyebrows furrowing before he started again. Even if he hated it, even if he loathed it, he had to advocate for himself here. “I don’t think it’s funny. I’m just, just frustrated that you won’t listen to my side of the story without automatically assuming it’s a delusion. Especially when I talk about how I think my mom does things to hurt me and you ignore it.” 

Dr. Smyth gave him another one of his gentle smiles and yeah, no, Eddie really fucking hated it. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Can I ask why you think your mother wants to harm you?” 

“You’ve seen my records, they’re insane.” It was a bad choice of words but he kept on going, he had to. “Especially the asthma diagnosis. I’ve had it for the longest and it’s pointless, I don’t need the inhaler and she doesn’t get it. Same thing with the meds, I don’t need any of those either.” The doctor looked weary all of a sudden, sitting further back into his own seat. 

“I’m more than aware of your records and I haven’t been able to completely go through them.” He sounded wryly amused now and fuck, _this shit wasn’t a fucking joke._ “I think your complete records are over an inch thick, it’s taking me a little while to get through it all. Once I do, however, we’ll be better able to support your particular case.” 

Good job ignoring everything important that he said. 

“Whatever,” he ground out, frustrated beyond belief, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared hard at the floor. “How long am I gonna be here anyway?” 

“We’re still trying to figure that out. Compliance is a big factor in all of this and considering you haven’t had another violent outburst, you might be out of here faster than I expected.” Wow, cool, that was awesome. So hopefully he’d be out of here in three years instead of like, a decade. 

Eddie didn’t say anything else, lest he fucking incriminate himself, and after a few minutes of silence, Dr. Smyth spoke again, his voice still calm. “If you like, you can leave.” A pause. “There’s an extra bottle of hand sanitizer on the side table by the door, you can take it to your room if you’d like.” 

His breath stuttered. Fuck, _shit_. The doctor knew exactly how to play him like a fucking fiddle. 

Hospitals were fucking disgusting and there was nothing he wanted more than that goddamn hand sanitizer, even as a fucking security blanket. Fuck, if he grabbed it though the doctor would probably just chalk it up to his shitty little OCD diagnosis. 

“Okay.” Was all he said before he stood, legs trembling as he walked to the door. 

He ended up grabbing the bottle and felt his neck burn when the scratchy sound of Dr. Smyth writing something down filled the small room. 

Ana was waiting for him in the hallway and she didn’t say anything to him, just gave him another placid smile and she could fuck right off, he already liked Maria more. 

-

Richie was loathe to admit it, but even if he’d only been driving for a few weeks, Bill was pretty good at it. They’d only almost crashed once and it was kinda sorta his fault because he’d been distracting him through the rear view mirror. 

Stan had ended up strangling him back into a seat and Richie’s leg bobbed the rest of the ride there. 

The car pulled up the long road to the asylum and, well, it wasn’t _too_ bad looking. Pine Creek Mental Asylum didn’t seem too terrible from the outside. Sure, it did share a bit of a resemblance to a few horror movie sets but it wasn’t _that_ bad. 

Bill parked them in the visitors lot and the walk up from the parking lot was nerve inducing. There weren’t any jokes he could make right now, no matter how much he wanted to break the air. 

There were a few people milling around outside that looked like they could be patients here. He tried not to side-eye the woman that was being pushed out of the building in a wheelchair by a man that looked like he could be her husband. She was crying and he looked tired. Richie swallowed and shared a glance with Ben, who looked pale. 

The front doors were automated and Richie didn’t care to look around. He made a beeline towards the front desk, ignoring everyone’s _”Richie!”s_ as he grinned at the woman that was sitting there. 

She gave him an irritated look and eyed him up and down, he was beginning to regret the Hawaiian shirt that he’d picked. She blended in with the surroundings, looking just as gray and plain as the room around them and Richie kinda hated it. Especially considering the fact that she couldn’t be any older than his own mom. 

Bill saved the awkward interaction before it began, elbowing him hard in the side before giving the woman a bright smile. He was laying it on a little thick. “Hi, uh, we’re h-h-here to see E-Eddie Kaspbrak.” 

The woman raised an eyebrow before rapidly typing something on the computer that was behind the desk. When she found whatever she was looking for, she gave them an annoyed look. “Edward Kaspbrak isn’t expecting any guests today.” Oh shit, she said _Edward_, the people here meant business. 

Alright well, worst case scenario protocol was officially in motion.

Richie was about to get his flirt on when Bev sobbed, the sound of it sharp and jarring and he flinched, whirling over to give her a wide-eyed look. Everyone else looked as panicked as he felt but Bev ignored them, pushing her way through their small crowd to get up to the front desk. “Please-“ she cried and Richie watched in abject horror as a tear slid down her cheek. “He’s my boyfriend! I miss him so much, his mom didn’t let me say goodbye before he came here!” 

Oh, shit, it was a bit. 

He breathed out a shaky sigh, forcing his expression to be more downcast (it wasn’t hard) and rested a hand on Bev’s shoulder. “C’mon Bevvy, she said no, let’s just leave and see if we can ask Mrs. K if she’ll let us see him later.” He let his voice tremble and Bev shook her head, wiping her eyes with her hands and leaving dark ugly mascara smears across her cheeks. 

“He-he hates hospitals! They’re so dirty, I need to see that he’s okay!” 

Okay that was a little bit too real for it to make Richie anything but uncomfortable. 

After a few more seconds of crying, the woman behind the counter let out a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before giving them another look, this one a little softer around the edges. “Alright, alright. Just a quick visit though, he doesn’t have a long history of violence but hospitals tend to bring out the worst in people.” 

Bev let out a relieved sob and nodded her head and Richie made a mental note to remember to ask her about how she got herself to cry on command like that. The entire losers club had gotten so devious, he felt a little left out. Maybe he should pick up lock picking. 

The woman stood up and leaned into the backroom that was behind the counter, calling out a quick “Carrie!” before turning to face them again, her back stick-straight. Another woman showed up behind her only a handful of seconds later, this one older, and the front desk woman spoke. “I’m taking these visitors to room 253, can you cover for me?” 

Carrie, apparently, gave her a nod and took the spot that she’d abandoned and then they were off, stumbling to keep up with the brisk pace the woman maintained. Bev managed to wipe off the worst of the mascara as they trailed through the hallways and shit, this place was fucking boring. Richie’d been expecting more straight jackets and people strapped to tables but so far everything was just kinda, uh, empty and white. 

Even outside looked paler, he was pretty sure that the windows had something on them that made the colors outside look muted. 

They only stopped for the woman to talk to one of the nurses. “Ana, I’m taking visitors to room 253, can you monitor their visit so I can go back to the front desk?” And the nurse, a thin woman with thinner hair, gave them a wide-eyed look before nodding and following along. 

Fuck, he looked at Bill and Stan who’d both made sour faces at that. Well, okay, if they were being monitored then they’d have to deal with that. This was gonna suck, but whatever, at least they’d get to see Eds. 

When a distant scream echoed through the hallways, neither woman looked surprised and Richie had to try, desperately, not to fucking piss himself. 

Ana, the nurse, noticed that and gave them a small smile as they followed the front desk lady’s lead. “That happens sometimes, don’t be too worried about it. Only a few rooms here are soundproofed so noises are a fact of life.”

Eddie probably fucking hated it here. 

When they finally got to the fucking room, the front desk lady left in a huff and their group was alone with Ana, who still had a slight smile on her face. “You’re here for the young boy who was recently admitted, right?” They all nodded and Ana grinned, the look of it brighter than her other, drier, smile. “I’m glad! He’s a nice boy, just has a bit of a mouth on him.” Well, she wasn’t wrong. 

Ana knocked on the door, the sound of it crisp and echoey considering the door was fucking _metal,_ before opening it. “Eddie, you have visitors!” She said, opening the door further and Richie’s heart _pounded_. 

“What the _fuck-_” Eddie called out from inside the room and shit, it was fucking beautiful. 

Ana gave them room to file in and Richie couldn’t stop smiling, God, he had no idea what he’d expected but hearing Eddie cuss like nothing had changed was such a goddamn relief that he could’ve cried. 

Then he saw Eddie in fucking hospital clothes and he wanted to cry a little. 

Eddie looked up at them from where he sat on the bed, like he was in complete disbelief, before stumbling to his feet, a laugh leaving him. “Shit, I thought you guys were my fucking _mom-_” And Richie interrupted him by pulling him into a hug, absently grateful that his arms were so stupidly long. Eddie was tiny and warm and his hair tickled Richie’s chin and fuck, he missed his friend. 

The rest of the losers were on them in a second, a group hug being the first move. 

There was a sob from somewhere that sounded suspiciously like Ben, and Richie snorted, moving away as far as he was able so he could ruffle Eddie’s hair. The crowd dissipated a little, everyone giving Eddie some fucking space, and Ana shut the door, staying in the room with them. Richie couldn’t even care, he just grinned, watching Eddie laugh, still bright even though he was in this shit hole. 

“Fuck, thank God you guys showed up, there’s nothing to fucking do here.” 

“I can tell, you look bored out of your mind Spaghetti boy.” Richie said, feeling giddy when Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe we missed your mom, I think she’s trying a little bit too hard to hide our love affair.” 

Everyone groaned and Ana chuckled lightly from where she stood by the door. 

A short silence settled over them and Bev was the one to break it, looking a little apprehensive. “Are you doing okay, Eddie? It’s not too bad here, is it?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes again “it’s so fucking boring here I can’t handle it.” Yeah, Richie could imagine. “Not to mention the fact that everyone keeps forcing me to take meds I don’t fucking need.” 

Forcing? Richie swallowed, feeling out of his depth all of a sudden, and someone in the room made an uncomfortable noise deep in their throat. If Eddie didn’t give him a look that silently said _’I’ll explain later’_ he had no idea what he would’ve done. 

Still, the awkward silence persisted and Eddie scrunched his nose up, all irritated-like. _Cute, cute, cute._ “Yeah, I know, it sucks as much as it sounds.” 

From where she stood by the door, Ana spoke up. “The medicine is good for you, believe it or not Eddie.” 

“Stay out of this.” Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair while looking supremely done. “I’m still gonna be peeved about the meds, especially since you guys watch me fucking take them.” 

Alright well Richie hadn’t anticipated that Eddie would already have beef with one of his nurses this fast but it kinda made sense. 

Ana seemed more amused than anything else. “You washed your hands five times after talking with Dr. Smyth, I do think you need something that’ll help your compulsions.” Richie could see Mike wince in his peripheral vision and yeah, ouch. 

Eddie threw his hands up in the air, letting out that frustrated groan of his. “Oh my God! Hospitals are disgusting! They’re breeding grounds for germs, I don’t have obsessive compulsive disorder, I just don’t want to get sick!” 

“Eddie-“ Bill started and Eddie huffed before turning back to them, his face shifting into a gentler expression than the one he’d been giving Ana. “You’re seriously doing okay though, right? N-n-nothing bad’s happened, yeah?” And Eddie grimaced, his dark eyes darting to the ground for a quick second before answering. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” And Richie knew _instantly_ that the asshole was hiding something. 

Richie opened his mouth, ready to demand an answer, when a blood curdling scream echoed through the hallways.

_”Help! Help! Get off!”_

They all startled, horrified, except Eddie and Ana, the older of the two just looked conflicted before sighing. “I’m going to go help, please don’t do anything bad while I’m gone.” And the thin woman slipped out the door, closing it behind her. 

The screaming continued and Richie broke out in goosebumps. Bill’s breathing quickened and Bev let out a sharp “What the fuck?” before Eddie winced and explained. 

“That’s Elizabeth, she does that a lot.” There was a pause and Eddie elaborated. “It’s not real, nothing bad’s happening, don’t worry about her.” Alright, if Eddie didn’t want him to worry about her then Richie would just worry about him instead. 

“What the fuck was that about the meds?” 

And Eddie grinned, sharp and quick. “They’ve already got me on antipsychotics but I’ve been faking taking meds for years, I’m a fucking pro at it by now.” Seriously, when did everyone get so fucking devious? Also, what the fuck type of medicine was his mom trying to force him to take? 

Stan saved Richie the discomfort of asking Eddie himself to elaborate. “How do you just not take medicine when they’re in front of you?” 

“You put the pill on your tongue, take a sip of water, knock it back, and hide the pill in the back of your mouth, under your tongue, next to the molars and no one ever finds it.” Eddie shrugged, like it was normal. “Plus, even if you do have to take it, you can just make yourself throw up.” Even Eddie looked uncomfortable at suggesting that and Richie wanted to hug him again.

“Eddie-“ Mike started and Eddie grimaced. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s fucking gross and I hate it.” 

Alright, Richie wasn’t gonna wait anymore. He reached over and pulled Eddie into another hug and Eddie only struggled a little bit before returning it. “Aw, Eds, that fucking sucks.” Eddie muttered something that sounded like _”yeah, I know, dickhead”_ before pulling away. 

It spoke volumes about how much Eddie hated it here if he wasn’t actively trying to strangle Richie for hugging him twice within an hour. 

“Something else happened to you, didn’t it?” The question left him before he could stop it and Eddie shot him an angry look before deflating. 

“Ugh, fuck, okay.” Eddie rubbed at a spot on his arm, grimacing. “Yesterday at my place, these other nurses gave me a fucking shot that made me pass out so I could get dragged here.” 

“So you were fucking kidnapped?” Stan snapped and Eddie nodded, energized all of a sudden and Richie loved to see it. 

“Fuck! Thank fucking God I’m not the only one who thinks that! Everyone talks shit about “protocol” but I got fucking chloroformed and white-vanned before getting here!” Eddie threw his hands up in the air, making a frustrated sound. “I can’t fucking believe my mom did this shit! This is like, a whole new low for her!” 

“Okay, okay wait.” Bev interrupted with a wince. “Can you start from the top? When did the entire schizophrenia thing start?” 

Eddie looked tired. “Around a year ago my mom flipped shit and acted like I was completely delusional and like I was hearing things. She ended up taking me to like, six fucking doctors before one of them finally gave me a diagnosis that she liked.” He grimaced, picking at the sleeve of his scrubs before starting up again and Richie felt anger burn deep in his stomach at what he heard. “I got prescribed antipsychotics and I don’t take them, but my mom tries to crush them up and put them in food, things like that. I guess she got pissed off enough that I wasn’t taking them and figured that she finally had an idea on how to force me to fucking do it.” 

The small room was silent before Mike broke it with a short “that’s fucked up, man.” That had Eddie snorting and looking back up at them with mischief back in his eyes. 

Thank fucking christ for that, Richie was starting to get stressed out. 

“I guess your mom got a little wound up because I wasn’t there to give her a hand.” And Eddie punched him in the arm, looking irritated again. 

“Fuck off trashmouth, that’s still gross.” 

“Ah, well, looks like I need to stop anyway, I can’t keep sticking my dick in crazy or else I’m gonna catch something.” 

Everyone made similarly disgusted noises and Richie only grinned, unable to feel anything but proud about the fallout of his joke. It’d only been like, barely a day and a half and he’d already begun going through “Sonia Kaspbrak sex joke” withdrawals. 

“How’d you guys even find out where I was, anyway?” Eddie asked, suddenly, and Richie huffed out a laugh, letting Bill take over for that one. 

“W-w-we looked on a m-mm-map for hospitals and this was th-the closest one that specialized in, uh, mental stuff.” Eddie raised a brow and Bill continued, the tips of his ears turning a little pink. “I also d-dr-drove here illegally, with just the learners p-permit.”

Ding ding, pissy Eddie time. God, you just love to see it. 

“Do you know how dangerous that is!?” Eddie hissed. “Oh my God, you’re lucky you didn’t fucking crash!” 

All eyes turned to Richie _(oops, these rats)_ and he could only smile innocently as Eddie’s face twisted, the guy bringing up his arm to gesture for emphasis. “What the _fuck_ did you do in that car, Richie? Why’d everyone look at you like that?” 

“It’s not my fault that I’m so hot that Bill thinks it’s a good idea to look at me instead of the road.” 

Eddie looked to ready himself for an eruption, but Stan saved the day again. “Not to interrupt the cat fight or whatever, but Eddie, why the fuck are you wearing sandals?” 

Richie looked down and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from exploding into laughter. Eddie had fucking _socks and sandals on_ and it was the best thing he’d ever seen in his life. His skinny little ankles were normally hidden by his shoes but they were out on full display right now and it was the funniest shit that Richie’d ever seen. 

Eddie sighed, looking up at the ceiling like it would give him the answers to life, and Richie already had an entire mental rolodex of socks-with-sandals jokes ready in his head. “No patient here is allowed to have shoelaces in case they try to fucking hang themselves.” And suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. 

A strangled “oh,” left him at the same time another scream rose from the hallway. 

_”Please! Please help me! She’s going to kill me!”_

“Fucking Elizabeth,” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms and looking very, very defensive. 

“So, does that, like, happen often here?” Ben asked, tentative, and Eddie shrugged. 

“No clue, I’ve only been here for a day. The only people I’ve talked to so far were the nurses and fucking Dr. Smyth.” Richie was sensing some pent up aggression there and before he could crack a joke about it, Eddie went on. “Because I’m under eighteen I’m in the juvenile unit but my records say that I have schizophrenia so they put me in a unit that’s based around helping people with psychosis. It’s why Elizabeth keeps screaming, I’m pretty sure she _actually_ has schizophrenia.” 

Richie tried to force a joke. “Sucks that they locked you in with the crazies.” It didn’t land well and it left a bad taste in his mouth but shit, he had to at least try to lighten the mood from how dark it’d turned. 

Eddie opened his mouth, about to snap something out at him, and Mike interrupted with a quick wince. “Eddie, do you think Bowers is in this hospital?” And Eddie’s mouth closed. His nose crinkled, like he was thinking it over, and Richie shoved his hands in his pockets just to have something to do. 

God, this room was fucking barren, it was so boring. 

“I don’t know?” Eddie finally admitted, seeming more drawn than before. “If he is then he’d been in the unit that has violent offenders, I don’t think they’d let him interact with others until he has a few more years of therapy-” The metal door opened back up before he could finish and Eddie quieted up quick, throwing a look at the more frazzled looking Ana. 

The nurse looked at them, straightened up, and coughed into her palm. “I’m sorry, I think visiting hours are over.” 

They’d all been lucky to get just this much time with Eddie, and even Richie knew not to push it. 

Ana gave them time for another group hug and when Richie’s arms wrapped around Eddie’s bony shoulders, he felt his throat tighten up. Shit, they had to figure out how to get Eds out of this place, he didn’t fucking belong here. Bev teared up again for posterity and blew a quick kiss towards Eddie who, to Richie’s _extreme_ amusement, pretended to catch it in his hand. 

None of them had even told him what the fuck they did to get in here but Mr. Spaghetti hadn’t even batted a fucking eyelash. 

They filed out into the hallway, but Ana paused, a look of regret on her face. “Eddie,” she called out, sounding apologetic. “You know I have to-“ 

Eddie sighed and Richie was definitely, one hundred percent, out of the loop. “Yeah, I know. Gotta pat me down to make sure they didn’t slip me anything sharp.” 

Oh. Fuck, Richie kept half-forgetting that this place was a mental hospital. Of course they’d need to pat Eddie down. 

Ana, to her credit, was quick about it and they only had to hover awkwardly out in the hallway for a couple seconds. 

There was already a janitor mopping _something_ up further down the hallway and Richie couldn’t help but wonder if it was related to that Elizabeth girl. 

He shared a look with Bill and he could see it, could see it in the firm set of his jaw and in the way his eyes almost burned. Shit, if Bill Denbrough was plotting something, then Richie was definitely behind him. 

-

The nurses let him eat alone without hovering overtop him, but when it came time for him to take his medication, they watched him like a hawk. 

He kept his breathing even, sat the little loxapine tablet on his tongue, and took a sip of his water, knocking his head back as he did so. It was exactly like he’d explained to the losers. Just a handful of steps. 

A nurse whose name he didn’t know just watched him, arms crossed, as he swallowed the water. 

He opened his mouth and she shined a flashlight in there, nodding when satisfied that the medication had been taken, before leaving him alone to watch other patients take their own medications.

When he was sure that she left, he walked into the bathroom, heart pounding, and lifted his tongue to pick out the pill from where he’d hidden it. 

It was a little soggy, chalky as it’d already started dissolving, and he didn’t let himself swallow as he tossed it into the sink. He turned on the water, filled his hands, and carefully rinsed out his mouth before forcing the pill down the drain. 

If there was anything he’d gotten good at, it was lying about taking pills. 

His mother had severely underestimated how much he did not want to be taking fucking medications. 

-

Bill knew that the chances of them getting Eddie out of the mental hospital when they weren’t related to him or over the age of eighteen were slim to none. It wasn’t like that was going to stop him from plotting though.

The ride back to Derry was far quieter than the ride there had been, even Richie was oddly muted from where he sat in the backseat, and Bill was honestly kind of relieved. It meant that he had a chance to make plans. 

Realistically speaking, their hands were tied. The most they could probably do was try to visit everyday but even then, the stunt that Bev pulled might not work a second time. Offering support to Eddie right now was the best they could do. 

Mrs. Kaspbrak had gotten worse than Bill could ever have anticipated and knowing her, she’d try her hardest to keep them away. 

Shit, hopefully the hospital staff would have their back on this and avoid spilling the beans to her. 

Bev sighed, low and long, breaking the silence. “That fucking sucked.” 

She could say that again, Jesus. Hopefully Eddie was handling it well because God knows that Bill would be having a shitty time of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two!! It's go time! Thank you so much for your guy's comments last chapter. 
> 
> Also, on a more ironic note, literally three days after I posted the last chapter, a family member of mine was re-admitted to a mental hospital. So that was quite the experience. They're fine though! Don't worry! It's definitely a necessary visit and they're doing better now, they're just going to be in the mental hospital for a while. It was just a little bit of irony that made me go "huh"


	3. Chapter 3

The therapist he’d been assigned to was a man who told Eddie to ‘just call me Jimmy!’ and to be frank, Eddie had no idea if he liked the man or not. The seat in his office was even cushier than the one in Dr. Smyth’s and there were a dozen or so “inspirational” posters hung up around the room. Like, the same type of posters that school counselors and English teachers with chunky jewelry had hanging up in their classrooms. The “hang in there!” kitten was more of a constant than Eddie would’ve ever thought it to be. 

Jimmy himself was kinda young, not super old, younger than his mom, at least. He looked happy to have Eddie in his office and he didn’t know him well enough to know whether or not that happiness was genuine. Jimmy wasted no time in starting their session. 

“Alright Eddie, do you think you can tell me about your mother? How you feel about her?” It was nice to know that they were off to a terrible start right off the bat. He took back every nice thought he had about the man.

But, fuck, he couldn’t just blow this shit off. It would be nice to be completely belligerent and unruly but that wouldn’t do anything to _help him_. He had to work with these people and show them that his mother was fucking crazy for pulling this shit. 

“She scares me,” he answered honestly, for the first time since being here, and if Jimmy was surprised he didn’t show it, just nodding and letting him continue at his own pace. “She’s always so _intense_ about medicine and medications, like, all the fucking time.” Jimmy didn’t react to his swearing and Eddie felt emboldened. “Sometimes she crushes up medicine and puts it in my food.” 

Admitting that out loud made his stomach twist uncomfortably. 

Jimmy wrote something down before looking at him with gentle eyes and Eddie was already on the defensive. “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you seen her put medication in your food?” 

It was a leading question, one with the intention of getting him to slip up, and he was almost _proud_ to be able to look Jimmy in the eyes and say “yes.” 

And Jimmy blinked, pausing in his writing to gesture for Eddie to continue. “I’ve watched her do it when she doesn’t think I’m home. If the pancakes taste like chalk then I know not to eat them.” Eddie paused and took a steadying breath, having to look down at his hands as he said the next part. “She’s a lot bigger than me, and sometimes she’ll grab my face and try to get me to take pills in front of her.” 

Richie had been so utterly pissed each time he’d seen the fingerprints that’d been bruised onto his cheek that Eddie’d taken to covering it up with his mother’s concealer just to get him off his back. Bill too, seeing Bill of all people get angry was something that was going to stick with him. 

“Oh Eddie, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jimmy did sound _sorry_, everyone was _sorry_ when they heard about it but nobody did shit. 

“’S fine,” he said, muttering, and it took everything out of him to keep on answering Jimmy’s questions. 

They’d rapidly turned into territory concerning only his mother and Eddie was so fucking tired of it by the time their hour and a half was up. He’d expected more of a mix between this whole place and the whole schizophrenia thing and having to talk about his mom for over an hour was draining. 

Jimmy dismissed him with a short smile, his expression thin, and he nodded back, grateful that it was finally done with. 

Maria was back today. She was waiting by the door for him to take him back to his room, so when she looked at him and asked “Would you be alright with going down to the common area to see the other patients?” he blanked for a moment, the change of plans throwing him off. 

Common area? 

“Uh-“ he started and Maria gave him a gentle look that seemed almost sad, her lips turning down at the corners. 

“They’re not dangerous, I promise Eddie. There are a few watchers down there making sure nothing happens and I know it must be boring staying in your room all day.” Okay she made a good point. “If you ever want to leave, you can tell one of the employees down there and someone can take you back to your room. It’s important that you step out and try to interact with people here, it’ll make your stay easier.” 

_Goddamn it Maria, why did you have to be a voice of reason?_

“Alright,” he sighed, wishing that the scrub pants had pockets that he could shove his hands into. “What’s it like down there anyway?” 

“It’s a large room, circular, and its away from the check-in area. There are places to sit down and there’s a big window that a lot of people like looking out of.” It sounded kind of like he was getting an elevator pitch, but he ignored that. Shit, he’d take anything other than his room, it was mind-numbingly boring after a few hours of the same thing. Maybe that was the point of this all. 

The hallway down towards the common area was long and winding and he eyed the paintings on the walls, grimacing at the smiling, happy families they depicted. It felt weird, out of place, to see things like that in these hallways. He could understand why the paintings were here but still, it was off-putting enough to make his skin crawl. 

They hardly made noise as they walked, the rubber soles of their shoes sounded almost muffled as they walked across the tile. It was awful. 

There was something about the quiet, the manufactured silence, that made him want to stomp his feet and scream just to prove that he could. God, this place actually made him feel fucking crazy. Everything here from the paintings to the neutral toned walls to the lack of noise put him on edge. It was foreboding, like a precursor to something awful that he had no idea of. 

The walk wasn’t long, thank fucking God for that, and Eddie barely had time to gather himself before Maria pushed the new set of double doors open and he got an eyeful of the people he was here with. 

Blinking, he scanned the room. He had no idea what the fuck he’d expected but they all just looked, uh, for lack of a better word, normal. The walk over had been anxiety inducing but now that he was actually here it was just awkward. He’d kind of expected more straight jackets, head banging, and screaming and now he felt a little guilty about it. 

He saw Elizabeth, the screaming girl from yesterday, sitting by herself by the large window and swallowed. 

Maria, in a move that reminded him of his first day in kindergarten, gently pushed him forward. He looked back at her, feeling childish, and she gave him a wide grin along with a double thumbs-up before turning and leaving him to his own devices. 

One of the employees down here, a broad man with a beard and gray scrubs, snorted and gestured widely towards the entire room (it was painted a creamier shade than the rest of the facility, and it was enough to ease his nerves). “Pick wherever you want, no one here bites.” 

Eddie begged to fucking differ. 

Still, he moved further into the room, not wanting to hover, and made the nerve wracking choice to sit halfway adjacent to Elizabeth. Mostly he wanted to look out the window in peace and enjoy it without there being metal bars in the way. He sat slowly, easing into his seat and crossing his arms, glancing out the window and feeling something inside him unwind at the sight of the outside world. 

Marginally, he relaxed and half-listened to the murmured conversations around him, the quiet tones of the other patients acting like a sort of balm somehow. It all felt weirdly normal. Time still dragged on here but it was nowhere near as bad as it was in his room. 

Then Elizabeth cleared her throat and he startled. 

He looked over and despite her ash blond hair being tangled, despite the dark circles under her eyes, and despite the way she picked at her fingernails, she gave him an awkward half-smile, looking as welcoming as she could. Eddie gave one back, his heart still pounding rabbit quick in his chest, and she brought a thin arm up to play with her hair, speaking as she did so. “My name’s Elizabeth, you can call me Eli if you want.” Seeing her up close made it clear that they were around the same age, he might’ve been a little older than she was, but it wasn’t by much. 

“Eddie,” he said and she nodded, still picking at her hair, and Eddie couldn’t help but offer-

“I know how to braid, if you want me to.” 

She looked skeptical, her thin eyebrows furrowing, but nodded after a few moments and turned, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. He scooted closer towards her, taking care to make noise so she wouldn’t get startled. Bev’d bullied them all into learning how to braid, just for the fun of it, and Richie’d been the test dummy considering her own hair hadn’t been long enough at the time. 

Richie had acted like he thought it was a huge trial at the time but Eddie knew that he’d liked the braids they’d tried to work into his hair.

He brought his hands up to her hair, hovering for a few moments as his eyes traced the scraggly ends of it. Eddie ignored the urge to shiver at the possible grime that could be in it, and quietly began. Her hair was long, just tangly, and it took a few minutes to work the knots out to a point where he could drag his fingers through the entirety of it without them catching on something. He started high up on her head, as high as he could manage, and worked slowly, trying not to startle her. 

The texture of it was smoother now that it wasn’t tangled.

Eli sighed after a few minutes, her shoulders relaxing once she fully realized that he wasn’t going to hurt her, and Eddie was willing to count that as a success. 

He knew the two of them were being closely monitored, in case something happened, and he hardly minded. 

Eli’s voice was barely a whisper when she spoke for the first time since he’d began. “You’re new, right?” When he made a noise of confirmation, she kept going, voice still slight, like she was trying to avoid drawing attention. There was something about it that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “I’ve been in and out of here a few times, let me help you.” 

“Okay?” He said, more of a question than not, and Eli nodded as if she was readying herself. 

“I know I was weird yesterday-“ that was an understatement, shit. “-but I know how to get them to let you out of here.” 

Okay, that piqued his interest. 

“What do I need to do?” He slowly braided her hair, going as slow as possible, to drag the conversation out longer. 

Eli sighed. “Look happy, like, don’t scream and cry like I did. If the nurses want you to do group things, do them and talk a lot in the group. Uh, don’t nap during the day, that’s bad, and don’t nap for super long either.” She paused and he stiffened, looking over to where one of the aides was walking, nearing the two of them. The woman was tall, broader than Eddie could ever hope to be, and gave the two of them a smile and nod of approval before going over to where a curly haired boy was rocking in his seat. Eli breathed, the sound of it thin, and moved her thumb up to her mouth to gnaw at before continuing on. “Eat as much of the food they give you as you can, don’t throw it and don’t say you don’t like it.” 

She stopped for a few moments and Eddie kept on braiding her hair, his mind racing. 

Fuck, well, nothing she said was nonsensical. It all made sense in some sort of fucked up way. Act normal, don’t cause trouble, and you’ll be out of here. 

“Never cry.” Eli said after an uncomfortably long silence. There was a lump in Eddie’s throat and swallowing past it was a struggle. 

“Okay,” he rasped and tried not to look at how the curly haired boy was being led out of the room.

They were silent for a while, and as wary as he was of her, he couldn’t help but enjoy her company. He’d been going stir crazy in his room with nothing to do. The braid was halfway complete when she spoke up again, a soft rasp to her voice. “There’s a clown outside the window, she’s looking at us.” 

And his breath stuttered in his chest. 

Even if he knew, on some base level, that Pennywise wasn’t there, he had to look. His eyes darted towards the window to check, unwilling to give himself a chance to pussy out. Another sigh left him when the window was as clear as it always had been, and he breathed slowly, trying not to show her how freaked out he was. “I fucking hate clowns.” She huffed out a thin laugh and started picking at the seams of her scrub pants. Something about their smaller talk earlier had obviously made her braver and as much as Eddie hated hearing about it, the idea of telling her to stop talking made his stomach twist. 

“Her hair’s red and she keeps smiling at me, sometimes she has balloons and sometimes she juggles.” 

His fingers were trembling. “Is she good at it?” Eli let out a questioning hum. “Juggling, is she good at juggling?” 

“No, no she’s terrible at it.” 

Eddie laughed, his cheek twitching, and tried not to fucking cry. He kept braiding, the movements faster, as Eli continued to speak. “I used to see her all the time but then I took medicine, ’n now it’s only sometimes.” A pause, an inhale. “When I was little she would hide in my closet and pop out to scare me and honk her horn.” Eli lifted her hands and pantomimed the movement of her honking a horn. “Like this. Honk, honk. For a long time each night.” 

The way she talked now was different than before, like her hallucinations changed the very cadence of her speech. 

There weren’t any pony tail bands that he could use to tie up the end of her braid and he tried to breathe, startling hard when the male employee from before asked a quick “Eddie, right?” He looked up, unsettled, and Eli did the same. 

He hadn’t even noticed that the man had been walking towards the two of them, and that was enough to make his skin itch. 

“Yeah?” He rasped, letting the braid fall back against Eli’s spine. 

“You look upset, are you alright?” And he blinked, not knowing what to say. The man continued on, gesturing widely. “Eddie, your hands are shaking. Do you need to go back to your room?” Oh. 

Maybe, maybe that would be the best thing right now. He swallowed and nodded, “sorry Eli, I didn’t have any hair ties.” She didn’t do anything, didn’t even nod, just brought her hands up to the braid and touched it, running her fingers down it. 

He stood and followed the man out, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Sorry,” he said, not knowing why, exactly, he was apologizing. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” The man said, keeping quiet beyond that, and Eddie didn’t know if that was a relief or not. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what the curly haired boy had been thinking when he’d been led out just a few minutes before. 

-

A few hours later, there was a knocking at his door, and he sat up, relieved at the distraction. Maria opened the door with a quick smile. He had no idea what she thought about him unceremoniously leaving the common area but she didn’t seem upset at all. “You have visitors Eddie!” 

Visitors, plural. Thank fuck. 

The losers all filed in and they were a sight for sore eyes, seriously. Even Richie’s loudly patterned Hawaiian shirt was a blessing. Maria spoke again, sounding amused. “I heard from Ana that everything went fine yesterday, so I’ll let you guys have some privacy.” She winked. “It’ll be our little secret.” And that right there was why Maria was his favorite. 

The door closed with a click, the sound not as loud as before, and Eddie was hauled into another hug by Richie, just like yesterday. “Alright Eds, you look like shit, what happened?” 

That was a loaded question.

“Don’t call me Eds,” he muttered, sighing before starting up again. “I saw the other patients today, it was fucking rough.”

“Aw man, bonding with the other crazies?” Richie was grinning when he said it and Eddie was too keyed up, too unsettled by earlier to find anything about that funny. 

“Richie, stop calling them fucking crazies. I’m in here too jackass, just for a different reason.” There was an almost collective wince and Richie looked like Eddie’d just reached over and socked him right in the nose. 

“Dude-“

Yeah, no, he wasn’t in the mood. “No, seriously, fuck off.” The whole thing with Eli and her clown (that she called “she,” it wasn’t Pennywise, it fucking wasn’t) had been unexpected and even if he’d had a few hours to compartmentalize everything, it still weighed on him. 

“A-A-Alright,” Bill said placatingly and Eddie calmed down despite himself. Fuck, talking to Eli hadn’t been bad, he hadn’t disliked her, but the fact that one of her hallucinations was of a fucking clown was enough to put him on edge and keep him there. “What happened with the other patients?” It wasn’t necessarily a complete topic change but shit, it was enough. 

“I only really talked to one. It was Elizabeth from yesterday.” There was recognition in a few of their eyes and Bev straightened up, a half-grin on her face. 

Her voice was wry, like she was kinda amused despite everything and fuck, Eddie’d missed her. “The one who was screaming?”

“Yeah, that one.” 

Bill winced but it was Stan that spoke, his voice a little breathy. “Oh shit, how’d that go?” And all Eddie could do was shrug. 

On one hand it’d fucking sucked, but on the other hand, he couldn’t say that he’d hated it. As messed up as Eli’s hallucinations were, he’d enjoyed her company. Fuck, maybe he _was_ going a little stir crazy in here. 

“I mean, fuck, it didn’t go bad.” He admitted, sighing as he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. Wait, what should he tell the losers? Goddamn it, telling them about her _specific_ hallucinations wouldn’t do anything but stress them the fuck out. He faltered, making the split-second choice to keep that out of this. “She gave me advice on how to get out of here faster, like how to behave so the doctors won’t want to keep you for longer.” His voice picked up at the end of it, his words getting faster. If anyone noticed, they didn’t comment, just nodded in understanding. 

His eyes strayed towards Richie, who still looked like he hadn’t exactly bounced back from Eddie calling him out before. 

Bev let out a low whistle. “That’s fucked up.” 

_God, you’re telling me._

A confused noise left Ben and Eddie shifted, his own eyebrows furrowing when Ben looked thoughtful. “Why was she screaming yesterday then? Wouldn’t that make doctors not want her to leave?” Oh, yeah, that made sense. No wonder a few of them looked politely confused. 

He crossed his arms, nose scrunching up as he tried to think. Eli hadn’t really been wrong with what she’d said, she just didn’t follow her own instructions. But shit, could he really blame her? “She didn’t tell me why. I think, fuck, I think it just got to her yesterday. She said that this wasn’t her first time in here.” Ben nodded, accepting his explanation, but now it was Bill’s turn to look skeptical.

He was starting to feel like he was on the spot, and he didn’t like it. 

Bill looked stunned, alarmed, like he was surprised that someone would do something like that. “So, she r-r-really gave you advice on how to act in order to m-mm-ma-make the doctors let you out early?” He reiterated and Eddie wanted to say something that would maybe comfort him, or make him look less like he was about to freak out. 

But he couldn’t, because that would be untrue. 

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, moving his arm back up to rub at the back of his neck because this entire thing was making him antsy. Shit, being in this place seriously made him feel like he was crazier than he was. Not wanting to have to hear silence, he kept going, rambling. “It wasn’t even weird advice either, like it made fucking sense when I thought about it.” 

“Eddie-“ Bev interrupted with a wince, her lips twisting into a grimace for the first time since she’d been here. 

He paused, and for the first time in a few moments, he looked around at his friends. They all looked pained and more than a little unsettled, the stark colors of his room doing nothing but making their faces look pale and haggard. 

Maybe he was projecting.

He wanted to think that it was because of what he’d told them about Elizabeth, but he had a feeling that he’d missed something somewhere in this conversation. 

“What?” He couldn’t help but snap, his nerves frayed, and almost bristled when Stan spoke. 

“Okay, at the risk of sounding like an asshole, I don’t know if you should really be listening to her.” He knew it made sense on the most baseline level. _’Don’t trust Elizabeth, she’s in here for a reason.’_ But she was on his _side_ here, probably the only one that actually was, beyond Maria. 

It was just, just hard to find people he could talk to here. He felt like he was by himself and shit, at least at Derry he’d had all the other losers on his side. Here though, it was different. 

“What the fuck?” It left him in a sigh and he looked toward Richie, eyes darting down to the floor when the other didn’t say anything. 

Bill spoke though, looking like he wanted to do anything else. “E-Eddie, just try to h-hear him out.” Stan gave Eddie that look he always did when Eddie started talking about cross contamination and fuck, fuck this, he didn’t want to get patronized. Seriously, he already had his mom for that. 

“Alright, well, you better start making some _fucking_ sense.” He snapped again, trying to keep his voice from rising in case Maria was listening in. 

Stan sighed and Bill might be considered the “mom friend” of their group but Stan was, without a doubt, the grandma figure. He definitely had an old soul, Eddie was willing to bet that his favorite candies were those hard little grandma butterscotches that all old ladies had a supply of. “All I’m saying is that I don’t think you should trust her over other people. She doesn’t seem that reliable.” Stan’s hands were moving in the short gestures that he used when he got passionate about something and Eddie had to take a step back and _think._

He wasn’t the only one effected by him being in here. 

He drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and counted to five internally before opening them back up. These were his friends, he could trust them and they wanted the best for him. They all looked tentatively hopeful, even Richie, who’d looked drawn since Eddie’d snapped at him, and he swallowed. It wasn’t their fault that his mom put him in here, they just wanted to give him advice where they could. They were probably just as frantic as he was. He couldn’t blame them for focusing on the one thing he could actually manage. 

“Okay, okay, shit. I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, acquiescing without further struggle, and he got fragile smiles all around. 

Feeling drained all of a sudden, he sat back down on his bed, the stiffness of it was even more irritating now than it’d been before. The silence of the ended conversation only lasted for a few moments, like it always did, and he was half-relieved when Richie was the one that broke it, like he always was. A huff of a laugh left the guy and Eddie looked up from where he’d been absentmindedly tracing the lines on his palms. Richie had that awkward smile he always did when he didn’t know if he was in hot water or not. “Are there any hot patients here?” 

There were a few half hearted groans and Eddie rolled his eyes, the mood already lightening. 

“I thought you were against sticking your dick in crazy?”

It earned him a giggle-snort from Richie and a couple more laughs and Eddie missed his friends so much it burned. 

-

Richie paused in the doorway, the other losers having already filed out into the hallway, and he gripped the door handle tightly as he turned back around to look at Eddie. 

He knew his jokes were unfunny most times, but he didn’t want to make ones that were totally uncool. He knew that he’d touched a nerve with the one he made at the beginning of their visit and he, he didn’t want to let that sit. Especially with Eddie being in here and not at Derry. Everything felt, it felt disconnected, with Eddie being in here and not out there with them. 

“‘M sorry about earlier, Eds.” He muttered, feeling more awkward than he had in a while and it was hard not to deflect with another joke. 

Eddie blinked, his dark eyes widening, and Richie shifted, feeling as if he was see-through. 

“Uh, it’s okay, ‘Chee.” Eddie said, like it was easy, using the nickname like he was trying to prove that he really wasn’t upset. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, I just-“ Eddie trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing like they always did when he was frustrated. 

“Sucks in here.” Richie offered, breathing easier as the conversation went on. 

Eddie huffed out half a laugh. “Yeah, it really fucking does. Sorry I was getting pissed.” 

“Pissed?” Richie teased, a genuine smile worming its way onto his face. “You? Never. Eddie Kaspbrak is sweeter than candy, he’d never get pissed.” 

And Eddie rolled his eyes, looking like he was trying to keep a grin off his face. It was such a fucking relief to see after the first part of their visit that Richie had to fight the urge to cheer. “Once I get out of this shit hole, its fucking over for you.” 

Richie snorted, half-turning when he heard Stan calling for him. “You’re gonna have to stop flirting with me one of these days, Eds. You might start giving a guy some hope.” He teased, throwing in an exaggerated pout for good measure. 

The look Eddie gave him was utterly dry and Richie was laughing the entire way down the hall, catching up with the rest of the losers, who’d been waiting for him. 

-

The entire day had been a pain in his ass. 

He, he had a lot of conflicting thoughts, okay? From the therapist to Eli to the other losers, everything had just been a lot. 

He would’ve liked to have more time to think it over, more time to compartmentalize, and more time to plan on how he was going to get the people here to see that he wasn’t crazy. But then the night nurse showed up with his medication, and he had to make a choice. 

She gave him a _look_, handed him the chalky little pills, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to think. 

Jimmy’d been concerned about what he mentioned about his mother and the lengths she’d gone to with his medication, but it’d been surface level. The man more than likely still thought that Eddie needed to take it. Eli had said that the medication had helped her out and made her feel less frantic, see the hallucinations less. The losers had worried about him, that much was obvious, but underneath that entire conversation was the implication that, that he wasn’t able to make the best choices for himself. 

Maybe, maybe he could show them that the medicine wasn’t a good option for him. Just for a few days. 

It had to have side effects if you took them when you didn’t need to, right? Maybe he could finally _have evidence_ that he didn’t need to take anti-psychotics. That had to count for something, it had to prove something that would benefit him. 

“Eddie,” the nurse got his attention lightly, giving him another, firmer look. “You need to take your medicine, we’ve been in here for a while now.” 

Time to make a choice. 

“Okay,” he rasped, throat feeling raw, accepting the cup of water she’d given him with trembling hands. 

When he put the pill into his mouth and swallowed, he could feel it going down his throat. 

The nurse gave him a quick nod of approval, and it was a trial not to throw up from the anxiety that thrummed through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip Eddie :/
> 
> The losers are trying their best! It's hard though :( poor kids. Anyway! More Sonia in the next chapter, she's been a little bit too absent thus far >:3c
> 
> Sorry for not posting last week! I've recently had to deal with some wrist problems that maayyyy end up requiring a mild procedure (hopefully not but that's not up to me lol!) so I've been distracted! 
> 
> And yes, I know Loxapine is a more recent antipsychotic but it's the one I know the most about so I just went with it.


	4. Chapter 4

Dan was a busy man, this facility only had a few psychiatrists and more than half of them favored a less than busy schedule as they were getting up in their years. Meaning he had to pick up the slack, even if he wasn’t too fond of the idea. 

So when he got a medical record for a new patient that required an entire inch-thick binder to contain it all, he was less than enthusiastic to dig into it immediately. It was unfortunate, but he truly could not spare the time to fully read through it. He could only dive into the relevant information, it was unnecessary for him to look at the asthma diagnosis records of one Edward Kaspbrak when he could instead read through the known delusions that the child had listed. 

As terrible as it sounds, and yes, he knew that it sounded terrible, he couldn’t spare the hours necessary to take apart his full records. But when Jimmy, one of the few therapists in this facility that he could safely say he enjoyed talking to, reached out to him, he had to listen. 

The man had looked stressed, a tad flustered, even, and Dan could only blink when he noticed that Jimmy was carrying the young Kaspbrak’s medical records in a tight-fisted grip. 

“Dr. Sm-“

Dan cut him off, trying to be gentle about it. “Dan, Jimmy, you can call me Dan. We _are_ coworkers, you know.” 

And Jimmy nodded, still seeming jittery, and acting far more anxious than he normally was. “Dan, sorry, It’s just, have you seen Eddie Kaspbrak’s records?” 

“Seen it? I could use it as part of the foundation of a house.” He tried to lighten the mood but Jimmy only seemed to wilt further. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” Jimmy ran a hand through his hair, sighing and looking as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Sorry, it’s just that yesterday he said some concerning things about his mother-“ his mother? Sonia Kaspbrak had seemed like a completely pleasant woman when he’d spoken to her last. “-and mentioned a few things about his records so I decided to check it out.” 

The look Jimmy gave him was a tad desperate and Dan had half a mind to request vacation time on behalf of the man. “He’s never been diagnosed with anything by the first doctor they’ve gone to. Or the second. A majority of his diagnoses have been by the fourth or fifth practitioner they’ve visited and even then, it’s only a week or so into seeing them. It’s never long enough to have an actual solid diagnosis, especially considering the severity of the illnesses he’s said to possess. Psychotic disorders take way longer than a week to properly diagnose.” It left him all in a rush and it took Dan a few moments to realize what the man was talking about. 

When it hit him, he felt more than a little uneasy. 

“They’re doctor shopping?” He prompted gently and Jimmy nodded, looking relieved. 

“Yeah, or at least his mother is. I don’t think he’s on board at all.” It all made sense, considering the depth of his records, but still-

“Jimmy, are you quite sure it can’t just be a delusion?” 

Jimmy hung his head, looking pained for a brief second before continuing on. “I mean, it could be, but do you think you could just double check his records so you can see just how it looks? It all seems very suspect and I want your second opinion.” 

He really, truly, didn’t have the time. But, if Jimmy said that something seemed to be amiss-

“Alright, I’ll get on that.”

-

He was so _tired._

Someone knocked on his door, the sound of it making him flinch and grimace and try to worm his way deeper under the covers. His head felt full and the only thing he wanted to do was go back to sleep. 

He didn’t even hear the door actually open before a soft pressure was on his shoulder blade, shaking him gently. “Eddie, your mom’s here to visit.” Maria, it was Maria. 

He wanted to care, wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going to talk to her, but he was so _tired_ that all he could do was grunt. 

She made a worried sound and he scrunched his nose up when she pressed the flat of her palm onto his forehead. Her palm was warm and a little clammy and he couldn’t find it in himself to complain about the spread of infection. 

Apparently everything was okay, because she moved away, and some time that he couldn’t quite measure later, he heard his mom’s loud voice. “Aw, Eddie-bear, are you feeling alright?” She wasn’t yelling or anything like that, but even from where he’d hidden back down under the covers, he could almost feel the vibration of her words as they carried through the room. 

He grunted again, not wanting to answer her and not being able to even if he did. 

“You must be taking your medicine, Eddie, I’m proud of you.” She said, sounding happier than she had in a while and he wanted to get in her face, yell back, but all he could do was sigh and sink deeper into the pillow. It was soft and he was just _tired._

Everything was fuzzy around the edges and he didn’t even realize that he was clenching and unclenching a section of sheets in his grip until Maria gently pulled it from his hands. 

“I know these side effects are terrible, but they’ll hopefully even out in a few days.” Maria soothed and Eddie slurred out a short “alright,” as his mom moved in to pat his cheek. 

He must really be out of it, because he didn’t hate the motion as much as he normally did. 

“You’re doing so good Eddie-bear, you’ll feel better soon.” 

He found himself unconsciously leaning into her touch, feeling more like a child than he had in years. 

-

Turns out that a group of high schoolers coming to visit their friend almost every day after school wasn’t exactly normal here, and their consistency made it so more than a few staff members recognized them. They were handed off a couple times, being led back by different staff members, until that nurse from yesterday- Maria -finally brought them to Eddie’s room. 

She looked a little uneasy, but was hiding it from them, and if they were any different group of kids, they probably wouldn’t’ve caught onto it. 

Bill furrowed his brows, trying to parse out what exactly could be making her worried, but Mike beat him to the punch. His voice was gentle in the way that he only used when he wanted to charm an adult into giving him what he wanted and Bill couldn’t help but be relieved that they had, like, some sort of James Bond figure on their side. If anyone could charm information from adults it was, without a doubt, Mike. 

“Is Eddie okay?” Mike was all nervous grins and Bill had to bite the inside of his cheek when he heard the telltale sound of Stan elbowing Richie to keep him from saying something stupid. 

Maria ran a hand through her hair, looking thoughtful. “Well, I think he’s finally getting a few side effects from his medicine. He’ll be acting a little different today, but don’t be worried, okay?” 

What? 

“S-side effects?” He stammered, mind running a mile a minute because wasn’t Eddie avoiding taking the medication they’d prescribed? What happened? 

“It’s nothing too severe, I’d almost consider it standard.” Maria tried to sooth, her voice soft, and Bill had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “He’s just tired, so he’ll be acting a little different than you’re used to.” 

He nodded, feeling unsteady, and shared brief eye contact with Mike, seeing his feelings mirrored in the other’s gaze. 

“Can we see him?’ Richie blurted before any of them could stop him and Maria nodded, leaning forward to knock on the door before opening it just a crack. 

“Eddie, your friends are here.” Her voice was louder than normal, like Eddie was unable to hear it if she didn’t talk like that. Bill could feel the corner of his jacket tug as Bev gripped onto it, as if to steady herself, and he made the conscious effort to stop biting at the inside of his cheek. 

Eddie didn’t answer and Maria let out a sad sounding sigh, motioning them all into the room. When he saw the Eddie-sized lump in the bed, his throat tightened and for a moment, he was almost worried that he was going to suffocate. The room was utterly silent for a quick instant, before Maria shut the door behind them all and moved towards the bed. 

“Wake up Eddie, your friends are here.” She said, her voice still loud, and the only response to that was a quiet grunt from the lump on the bed. Bill felt sick. She kept talking, partially pulling back the covers but still blocking their view to their friend. “You slept through your mom’s visit earlier, let’s try to get up for this one, okay?” There was a lot to unpack in that sentence, but Bill could only focus on the way Eddie slurred out a long “no,” as Maria pulled him upright. 

She’d gripped his shoulders and pulled him upright like that, her hands firm, and Bill swallowed dryly. Eddie’s hair was messy, unbrushed, and his nose was scrunched up, eyes closed tight against the light of the room, and Bill could hear Richie let out a faint sound from behind him. 

“Eddie, your friends drove all the way here to see you. Can you say hi to them?” She prodded and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“‘M tired.” Was all he said, the words slurred, and Bill wanted the nurse to leave so he could ask just how much of his medicine did he take. Why the fuck would he even take it? Wasn’t he _just_ telling them about how he figured out a way to keep from taking his meds? 

“I know you’re tired,” she soothed, and Bill was only half listening, too preoccupied with the way Eddie almost seemed to sway as he sat upright, listing from side to side. “But you’ll feel better if you talk to your friends for a few minutes. When the visit’s over you can sleep for as much as you’d like.” 

Eddie sighed, eyes still closed, and slumped forward far enough that Maria had to help sit him back up again. Bill swallowed. “‘Kay,” Eddie murmured, the word more slurred than not, and the knot that’d developed in his chest tightened at the sound of it. 

This was awful. 

Maria straightened from where she’d leant down to help Eddie up and gave them a firm look, more stern than they’d ever seen from her before. “I’m going to check up on the other patients. If anything happens, please, use the call bell so I can come back up.” Eddie grunted, as if to protest, and an unsteady smile wormed its way onto his face at that. Eddie was about as intimidating as a kitten. 

“Yeah, of course,” he heard Stan rasp and Maria gave them a tight nod before turning out the room. 

The instant the door clicked shut, Richie was on the bed, sitting next to Eddie, uncaring that the other had slumped over to the side a little bit. “Eddie, what the _fuck_?” Richie demanded, grabbing at Eddie’s shirt to force him upright and Bill let out a shaky sigh before settling down onto another one of the bed’s corners. “You better be fucking with them, I know you didn’t take medicine that you don’t fucking need.” 

Richie’d over calculated and ended up pulling Eddie hard enough that the other was now leaning on his shoulder. Eddie had always been small, always shorter than the rest of them, but he looked absolutely tiny with the way his cheek was pressed up against Richie’s shoulder. The neutral color of his scrubs made him seem even more muted and it wasn’t, it wasn’t a good look. 

Eddie took a few moments to answer, his brows furrowing like the simple question was more difficult than not. “I, I wanted to show them, that I didn’t need it.” The words were halting, slurred, and it took way too long for Eddie to get the sentence out. He sighed afterwards, slumping further into Richie’s side, whose eyes had blown wide open and jaw had dropped like he couldn’t believe what Eddie’d just said. 

Bill absentmindedly began to pick at his fingernails, needing _something_ to do. 

The room was silent for what felt like an age and Bill watched Ben and Bev make eye contact, like the two of them were trying to figure out what the fuck to say. 

He felt the same. 

Stan saved their asses, sighing and crossing his arms and looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever fucking heard.” Well, he wasn’t _wrong._

Richie, from where he was struggling to keep Eddie upright, bristled, as if he was offended on Eddie’s behalf. Eddie was the one to speak though, huffing out a breath of air. “Fuck you dude,” it was breathy and awkward and weird but at least it made this nightmare of a situation feel more normal than it had before. Fuck, Bill was like, the leader here. He had to say _something_ even if he felt less than stable. 

“W-well,” he started, already irritated at his stutter. “Do you have m-m-more plans or is th-this it?” 

Eddie’s hands were shaking, had been shaking for as long as he’d been awake, and Bill was beginning to think that it was another side effect and not just his nerves. He didn’t, he didn’t even seem nervous, just sedated. And considering Eddie was one of the most jittery, anxious, and _loud_ people that Bill knew, that was saying a lot. 

“Didn’t think it through,” Eddie admitted weakly, opening his eyes just a sliver but not looking anywhere in particular. 

Well, that explained a lot. 

Bill had to fight the urge to sigh and grab Eddie by the shoulders and _shake_ him for being so _stupid_. 

Richie wasn’t as reserved, throwing his head back and groaning a loud “Spaghetti, you did _not,_” that had Bill huffing out a laugh despite how unfunny this situation was. Eddie just grunted, not having the energy to correct the nickname, and Bill knew that Richie was going to abuse the new ability to call Eddie “Spaghetti” without getting elbowed in the ribs. Oh, Bill could already predict the fights that were going to come from this when Eddie was less drugged up. 

Mike, ever the sensible one, drew them back into the present. “She mentioned that your mom was here earlier?” His voice was firm and even despite how panicked he had to be as well and Bill couldn’t help the rush of admiration that ran through him. The mention of Eddie’s mom had them bristling though and Bill could see Richie’s grip tighten, pulling the fabric taut, where he was still holding onto Eddie. Huh. Now he knew what Stan bitched about all the time. 

It made sense, at least, even if Richie hadn’t made any sort of indication about anything beyond, uh, subtext. 

There was a low groan from Eddie, like having to remember it was a pain in the ass, and Bill winced in sympathy. “Yeah. She was, she was glad that I took the medicine.” It was like before, the way his words were stilted and awkward, but it got the point across. 

He’d gotten used to Eddie talking fast enough that it took effort to follow along, it sounded like he was in slow motion. Or under water. Or something equally as numbing and dragging. 

Bill had long since decided that he didn’t like Eddie’s mom but this only solidified it. 

“That’s awful,” Bev sighed, slumping into the bed with the rest of them with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. Her shoulders were set, stiff and uncomfortable looking, and Bill awkwardly reached over to pat at her shoulder to at least try and make her feel better. 

She didn’t look at him, but he could feel some of the tension seep out of her shoulders. 

The room was quiet, a steadier sort of quiet this time, and it was only broken by Eddie making a frustrated sound from where Richie was holding him upright. “Richie, stop moving so much.” What?

Bill blinked, confused, and Richie made a sound like he had no idea what Eddie was talking about. Eddie had long since closed his eyes again, and now his face was scrunching up into another grimace. Richie shot him a look like he wanted Bill to help but he genuinely had no idea what to say. 

Richie asked a short “whaddaya mean, Eds?” And Eddie grimaced, moving a (shaking) hand to grip at Richie’s jacket. 

“You keep moving, ’s making me dizzy.” 

Richie looked completely lost and Bill had no idea what to do, feeling equally out of his depth. Stan made a noise of understanding, catching onto something the rest of them had missed. “Eddie, I think that’s a side effect. Richie’s being pretty still for once.” 

There was the little snipe in there, because it was Stan and he was always a bit catty, but it made sense. 

Mike winced, looking sympathetic, and Bill watched the way Ben’s face softened by a good margin. 

Eddie groaned, bringing a trembling hand up to rub at his eyes. “Fuck me,” his voice wavered as he shifted away from Richie and used the wall as a brace instead. 

“Are y-you okay?” He asked, easing closer towards Eddie, having to bite his bottom lip when Eddie cracked open an eye again, this time focusing at him.

“Yeah,” Eddie rasped and Bill didn’t believe it for a second. “‘M just not gonna take that shit anymore.” Good, but, but was that even safe for him to do? He opened his mouth to say something but the metallic sound of the door opening cut him off. He startled, standing up, and the rest of them followed suit, Richie startling hard enough in his attempt to get off the bed that Bill was almost worried for him. 

Maria gave them a gentle look, seeming relieved as her gaze raked over them all. “Feeling better Eddie?” She asked, moving into the room, and they were all quick to make space for her. 

Eddie grunted “‘m dizzy,” and Maria made a tutting sound before moving forward, resting her hand on his forehead for a brief second before pulling it away. 

“You’re not warm, so there’s not much I can do. It looks like it’s just a normal side effect of your medicine. I’ll come in with a thermometer soon to double check.” She looked sympathetic enough but still, Bill had been wishing that she’d be able to offer them more information than what they already knew. “If you feel feverish after that, please tell me. If you get sick too, I need to know that.” And Eddie just nodded, seeming even more sedated in the presence of the nurse. 

“Do we have to leave now?” Richie asked, the sound of his voice almost startling, and Maria gave them a sad grimace. 

“Sorry, but you all _have_ been here for a while, and I don’t want to push the regulations.” More than they already had, Bill silently added on to the end of her sentence. Maria’s lips pressed together in a thin line and she sighed, continuing. “Eddie, you need to stand up so I can make sure the bed’s empty.” 

Oh. 

With how often Maria and the other nurse bent the rules for them, it was hard to remember that there were strict regulations here. 

Richie ended up pulling Eddie up to stand, the smaller of the pair absently drifting from side to side as Maria quickly stripped the bed and remade it, checking underneath the mattress and inside the pillowcases before letting Eddie sit back down. 

Eddie sat with a huff, looking like he wanted to do nothing more than sink into his bed and sleep for the rest of the day, but he managed to give them all a short wave and uncharacteristic half-smile as they filed out of the room. It just, it just looked different on him now, than it had before. 

There was an anxious energy in the air, making it feel electric, and Bill had no idea what to do to get it to disappate. He looked up at Maria, the woman quietly shutting the door behind them, and he spoke before he could think to stop himself. “He r-really doesn’t need to take t-th-that medicine.” 

She shot him an apologetic look, a faint frown pulling at the newly developing lines on her face. “I’m sorry, he needs to take his medication even if there are side effects.” She really did sound sorry, but that wasn’t going to _help_ them. 

He swallowed roughly and looked down at the black and white speckled tile flooring, heart squeezing deep in his chest at the realization that this was what Eddie felt like each time he spoke to his mom about his health. It didn’t feel good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! It's picking up just a little bit! 
> 
> Dr. Smyth had a pov shift for a little bit which hopefully won't happen again, I just needed some good old layering of povs and I apologize about an oc being that active lol 
> 
> Writing Bill is super hard for some reason??? Idk why, if his section reads weirdly then that's why. Also!! I found out that I hate writing large group interactions, its really kicking my butt because I feel like I'm not getting everyone's interactions in, so I'm going to have to find some way to fix that in upcoming chapters ;P let's see how that goes! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for following/commenting! I love reading what people have to say about this fic, it's one of my more "experimental" ones by far dksjfhdkh

**Author's Note:**

> I watched IT 2 a few days ago and I wasn't necessarily traumatized but I did write this chapter along with two others over the course of three days, so take that with a grain of salt. 
> 
> Eddie's always been my favorite so, because canon bullies him, I must do the same. 
> 
> Munchausens by proxy is horrific and I wanted a fic that focused on Eddie dealing with that and when I couldn't find one that fit my very specific needs, I decided to write it! :DD
> 
> This is my first time writing for IT so if my characterization is a bit off, please don't feel bad about telling me!


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